Oliver sat on the chair facing the bed in the early hours of
the morning waiting for George to waken. Oliver had sat up
all night with George to make sure that he didn't have any
more nightmares and to make sure that he was alright
throughout the night. Oliver was worried for his friend. He
had never seen George so helpless and lost in his life. It
seemed to Oliver that George had given up all hope on life.
A low moan escaped George's mouth as he turned to face Oliver.
"It hurts so much." Oliver was unsure if he meant his head
or his heart.
"There is a glass of water and a pain potion on the nightstand
next to you," replied Oliver.
"Where am and what happened to me?" asked George. Trying to
open his eyes but finding it too painful.
Oliver pressed the vile of potion to George's lips, coaxing
him to swallow it. Then he pressed the glass of water to his
lips and George took a sip. Oliver waited a few minutes for
the potion to kick in and for George to open his eyes before
he answered his question.
"You drank too much, and when you went to leave the bar last
night, you stumbled, passed out and hit the floor. You were
bleeding from the nose quiet a bit and I healed you. I
couldn't leave you there and I didn't know where you were
staying, so I brought you here to my flat."
"I really don't need your help, Oliver. I was doing fine on
my own," sneered George.
"It was obvious you weren't doing fine on your own. They
would have tossed your bleeding arse out the door and left ya
there in the cold. You could have frozen to death. What
about your family, George? How do you think they would cope
losing another son or brother? Bloody hell, do they even know
where you are?" demanded Oliver.
"No, and I don't really care. My life is over and has been
over the day he died. There is nothing left for me to live
for. Nothing." George said quietly.
"You have a lot to live for George. You have a family who
loves you and friends who love and care for you. I care about
you George and I don't want to lose you."
"I can't do this anymore, I'm leaving." George nearly bolted
for the door, but Oliver grabbed his wrist before he got too
far.
"George, please if you need someone for anything at all; if
only to talk or to pick you up or give you some place to stay
for the night. Please call me or send an owl. Or show up here
at any time day or night. I will be here for you. Please
don't hesitate okay?"
George nodded and left the flat without another word. Oliver
didn't know if he would ever see his friend again.
Every night Oliver searched the wizarding world of Great
Britain in all the pubs and taverns in search of George,
hoping to be able to just be there for his friend when he fell
again. He search every night for nearly three weeks, and
found no sign of George. He was so sure that George was gone,
disappeared; not wanting to be found. He had nearly given up
hope of ever seeing his friend again.
A month had passed and not a word from George. Oliver sat at
home waiting and hoping that George was somehow still alive.
At midnight Oliver finally gave into sleep sitting on the sofa
in his sitting room, when a loud pounding startled him. It
was not what he was expecting to hear.
He stood slowly from his seated position, drew his wand and
cautiously made his way to the door. When he opened it, it
was the last person he expected, but the one he had been
hoping to see for the last month. George looked worse than he
had the first time he had seen him. His clothes were slightly
more tattered and torn. His face and hand were covered in
layers of dirt and dried blood. His eyes were blood shot and
rimmed red from either crying or lack of sleep and he was a
lot thinner than he had been.
"Oliver, please help me?" was all George said before he passed
out on the floor of Oliver's doorway.